Page 45 of Bad Kind of Love

Stepping out onto the asphalt driveway, I feel the heavy smack of my heart as I stare into the devil's lair. I’ve seen the outside of the house many times, but the inside is what sends my heart into a frenzy. It was like walking into a haunted house. Not knowing what to expect, but you still felt a thrill for the unknown.

My feet began to pull me towards the front door, and before I could even make it to the front steps, Wes was already opening the door.

“You made it.” He grins leaning against the door frame with a gatorade bottle attached to his mouth. Dressed in nothing but a pair of athletic shorts and shoes, my mouth struggles to hold itself up. Drenched in sweat as if he just finished running a mile, my eyes drop down to the ripples on his chest and the way they flex as he swallows his drink.

“I did.” I try focusing on the way his hair is slicked back out of his face, but like a magnet, I’m pulled back down to his toned body. “What were you doing in there?”

With every ounce of strength I have, I peer up into his eyes as I come to a stop near the door. Chuckling, he drops the bottle from his mouth and holds it at his side.

“Just working out.” He wipes the back of his palm across his forehead. “Gotta stay in shape after the way you’ve been feeding me your Aunt Claire's famous chocolate cake.”

“Hey.” I point. “You don’t have to eat it.” I chuckle as my eyes drop down to the visible v that disappears under his shorts. My laughter dies down as my gaze turns hot and I feel the back of my neck begin to sweat.

Teenage boys weren't supposed to have bodies like his. He was built like a man. Tall, well built and with endless muscles that were impossible to ignore. I always knew he would have a nice body, but seeing him naked like this was better than I anticipated.

“You gonna invite me in?” I speak up after my ogling. Lifting my eyes, I catch Wes with his bottom lip in between his teeth as he watches me closely.

“Yea, come in.” He motions his arm inside the house. With the gatorade still dangling from his fingers, he brings it up towards his mouth before taking one last gulp, and emptying the bottle. His movements are slow and deliberate as his eyes stay on me. In that moment, he reminds me of Mr. Fitzgerald.

The way he stares at me is like I’m something to be broken and fixed. But in a flash, Wes’s eyes soften and I’m reminded he’s nothing like his father. They may have similar facial expressions, but I know deep down Wes was the good guy.

Gathering up enough courage, I take a step inside the house. Passing Wes, I stop in the entryway and take in my surroundings.

“Home sweet home.” Wes jokes as he closes the door behind him.

My eyes wander over the small home, everything inside reminds me of your average family decor. From the brown leather sectional to the large dining room table, I was kind of shocked. I imagined it to be dungeon like, cold and uncomfortable, something more suitable for the devil. But perhaps there was a room that stored all that kind of stuff, and I had no doubt in my mind that it was Mr. Fitz’s.

“It’s.. cute.” I smile, realizing the walls were mostly bare. No family pictures, no anything.

“It’s alright, I guess. It’s a roof over my head.” He shrugs while walking past me. “Let me show you my bedroom.”

His eyes glance my way before disappearing down the hall and I’m left to follow him. I creep down the hall and stop at the doorway to his room.

“He’s not here by the way. Jack.” He stands in the middle of the room, watching as I slowly step inside. “I guess he went out or something.”

“Oh.” I nod. “That’s good.”

Plopping down onto his bed, I begin messing with my nails, unsure about what to do.

“You good if I go shower?” He stalks over to his dresser and reaches into one of the top drawers, pulling out some clothes.

Still awkwardly sitting on the edge of his bed, I fidget with the plaid comforter that lies almost perfect across his mattress. His room was almost bare if it weren’t for the bed and lone dresser that stood across from it. No wall hangings, no pictures, not even the simple luxury of a TV.

“Yah, go ahead.” I motion. “You stink anyway.” I wave my hand in front of my nose causing his head to drop in laughter.

“You like my stink.” He teases as his voice seems to drop an octave. His aqua eyes glance down at my sitting form before pushing off the door and walking the opposite direction. My heart rate drops, almost like I was disappointed that he left.

This wasn’t anything new. We could both be flirtatious at moments, but it never went past that. At times I wondered why he never made an advance towards me. Maybe it was our friendship he didn’t want to ruin? Or, he just didn't see me that way.

It was as frustrating as it was confusing. But, in the long run of things, I knew it was for the best. Soon, we’d both be leaving for college and our friendship would fizzle out into nothing. He’d make new friends and forget about the girl from Valley Hill, while he’d forever be imprinted in my brain and heart.

Pushing myself off the bed, I stalk over to the burgundy dresser that Wes pulled his clothes out of. My eye caught something white lying on the top, it appeared to be an old picture as it rested upside down with the words “1999” sketched on the top. Curiosity got the best of me and I slowly flipped it over. It was a woman in her late twenties kneeling down behind a young boy with a big grin across his face. Her arms were secured around his waist as they both stared up into the camera with wide grins. By the bright blue eyes and dimples, I knew immediately the young boy was Wes. They looked almost identical, the same sandy hair color and eyes that were made of caribbean water.

As I held the photo in my hand, I felt almost guilty for looking at it. It was placed upside down for a reason, and glancing at the intimate photo felt like an invasion of privacy. Like any moment an alarm would go off and Wes would come barging in seeing me with the photo in my hand. Gently placing the photo back down on the dresser, I step out into the hallway and I'm immediately drawn to the last room down the hall.

For no particular reason, my eyes connected with the brown door. My heart rate begins to speed up and a voice inside my head tells me that it was “His” room. There was nothing telling me it was his room, but the instinct I had was impossible to ignore.

I knew it was his.

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